


intimately acquainted

by Bugggghead



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alpha Jughead, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, But not really at all, F/M, Heat Houses, Matching Service, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Betty, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Smut, Surprising amounts of fluff, cum kink, gratuitous amounts of smut, i'm only kind of sorry?, really though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20683082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: Betty awakens with a start. Her head is thumping. Her things are drenched. And her skin - her skin feels as though it is on fire, set to melt right off her bones if she doesn’t do something - and soon. She’s never known heat like this, nestled under the thin layer of her skin and spread across every stitch of muscle and bone in her body, seeping between her nerves and burning straight through her being.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betty_cooper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betty_cooper/gifts), [SunlitGarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/gifts).

> Endless thanks to [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com) for her patience and attention to detail in the beta process for this fic. If you haven’t read her [ABO series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1458772) or her [new ABO fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20634287), you are certainly missing out.
> 
> Gifted to both [@bettysnooper](https://bettysnooper.tumblr.com) as a late birthday present and [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com) for her instrumental role in the idea of using a heat house and general all around support for my newfound love of ABO. If she hadn’t released her ABO series, I never would have known exactly how much I love all things ABO. You ladies are gifts to my fandom experience and I love you both so very much.

Blind dating was not something Betty Cooper did.  _ Ever _ . She’d been on exactly five dates her entire life and she’d known all but one of them since elementary school. As an almost college sophomore who’d spent her formative years studying books instead of boys, she didn’t have a whole lot of real-life experience with the opposite sex. 

Which is why, a few weeks before her nineteenth birthday, sitting in the university clinic’s waiting room, Betty was suddenly terrified of the words she was hearing.  _ Suppressants. Heat. Omega. Alpha Matching Programs.  _ None of it made a lick of sense. Apparently it was rare enough that even Betty, who prided herself on odd bits of knowledge, had never heard of the designations before.

Her best friend Veronica had calmed her down a few hours later over more than a few glasses of wine and insisted that she had a solution. In her own words,  _ it’s much more like eharmony than tinder.  _ She promised the site rated Alpha with Omega compatibility based on things beyond what she’ll want out of someone during the peak of her heat cycle. She liked  _ the idea _ of it all. Her judgment on the practice was still up in the air, but the idea of having an Alpha lined up to essentially fuck her senseless based on more than simply her body begging any willing participant was one she could at least stomach. 

After a bit more than just a nudge from Veronica, who claimed to understand because of her own family history with the ‘ailment’, Betty set up a profile. T he first few days were uneventful at best. She conversed with a decent 78% match, but didn't exactly sit up any time her phone went off with an alert until she noticed a new match. 92%. She figured it was worth a shot.

Her birthday, according to the brochures she’d gathered at the school’s clinic, would mark the beginning of her “presentation” as an Omega. With less than twenty days left to go, she responded to beanieboyjay. Surprisingly, despite his lack of originality in taste for film, because really, every edgy college guy claimed to have a deep-seated love of Tarantino and all things indie cinema, they got along. Conversations flowed from one message to the next over the first week.

With the countdown nearing single digits, Betty finally brought up the topic of her heat. 

While he seemed receptive enough, he was still a bit reluctant to agree to aid her with her upcoming heat. Hell, she wasn’t even convinced she wanted someone there with her when she became, as the pamphlets so delicately put it: _ a needy Omega craving only one thin _ g. She also didn’t want to navigate her first heat alone. Based on her research, the first heat was the most intense, and when undertaken alone, without an Alpha to see her through, it could become one of the most painful experiences in any woman’s life. There had been reported cases of Omegas winding up in the hospital, crawling on any Alpha within a few hundred foot radius and quarantining entire wards for days on end until the heat subsided. 

As embarrassing as putting herself out there with him was, it was nowhere near the level of embarrassment she’d surely suffer if she went down in a history book, or worse, one of those fucking glossy pamphlets, as another failed story of an Omega “going at it alone.” So, she’d decided over a few glasses of wine and hours upon hours of girl talk with Veronica, to proposition beanieboyjay to see her through her first heat.

Betty was far from sexually repressed. While she had little to no actual dating experience, she’d casually hooked up with men in the past. Sexual liberation was the name of the game according to her best friend, and she’d seen to it that Betty checked that box early in her freshman year at NYU and at least a few more times before the end of it. It wasn’t that she was really against dating, it was just that she simply didn’t have the time to devote to maintaining a relationship. One night stands hadn’t been her cup of tea in high school. She’d entered college as a virgin, but with Veronica by her side, Betty had found a balance she could live with.

So, when beanieboyjay, who still hadn’t answered her needling questions about his real name, claiming it was worse than she could possibly imagine, was on the fence about coming up for a visit in exactly nine days, Betty began to worry. She’d heard of an Omega getting through a heat alone, but only at approved Heat Houses with medical staff and appropriate toys. Though it was never described as anything close to comfortable, at least it had been done.

After a few more days of noncommittal responses due to his uncertain schedule yet otherwise engaging conversations, Betty had had enough. She sent him the name of a hotel - a “heat retreat” according to the glossy pamphlets now spread across her coffee table - and a date. Choosing one hadn’t taken long.  Once she knew what she was searching for, the wonders of the internet made planning the details pretty easy. She just prayed his schedule would allow them to meet.  She accompanied the info with a short note using words like  _ hope and appreciate _ and logged out of the app, letting him know her full name and that the front desk will allow someone wearing a beanie in if he was able to show. As dodgy as he had been about personal info, she wasn’t sure she could bear hearing a flat out  _ no _ . 

At precisely nine pm on the eve of her birthday — with emails scheduled to go out to all of her summer course professors, her mom, sister, and a few friends letting them know she’d caught the flu and would be unavailable for the next few days — she checked into Thistlehouse with a bag full of toys, a few DVDs, courtesy of Veronica, and decidedly without her phone. 

Going to bed was slightly uncomfortable. She was a little too hot, a little bit sweaty, and all-around nearly too nervous to succumb to sleep. The cotton of her pajamas that any other time felt soft and plush were scratchy against her skin. Shedding them before slipping between the silken sheets, she tossed and turned from one side to the other, trying and failing not to think of the days to come. Eventually, her body won out. Apparently, it knew there would be precious few hours to rest in the coming days and her nervous energy finally subsided, replaced only by dreamless hours of deep sleep.

-

Betty awakens with a start. Her head is thumping. Her things are drenched. And her skin - her skin feels as though it is on fire, set to melt right off her bones if she doesn’t do  _ something _ \- and soon. She’s never known heat like this, nestled under the thin layer of her skin and spread across every stitch of muscle and bone in her body, seeping between her nerves and burning straight through her being. 

Panting, she tries to sit up only to find her sheets are not, in fact, her sheets. Instead of the pale pink cotton covering the same queen-sized mattress she’s had most of her life, she sees red - a deep, crimson, blood red. The bed is bigger, too. King-sized, if she had to venture a guess. Twisting around, her eyes skate over the empty shelves, the empty room, the single TV mounted on the far wall and the same red as the sheets splattered across the empty walls. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows this place. It’s not quite familiar though, as if she’s seen it in a picture but never before in person. Maybe once in a dream. Her mind is slipping away again, despite her desperately clinging to the notion that she  _ has _ to hang on to the single coherent thread of thoughts. 

Fire licks up her spine, threading through each vertebra slowly and lacing its way up to her neck. Reaching up, she presses her palm against the pulsing flesh just on the side of her throat. A moan drips from her lips and she presses harder, pulling her other hand up to do the same. The pressure feels euphoric, like scratching an itch she hadn’t known.

She can  _ smell  _ herself. Some niggling part of her brain knows this is unusual - smelling oneself is never, under any circumstance, a normal occurrence. Yet, here and now, with her body heat rising, and her throat thumping, and the thick fog of her own stench clouding the room, it doesn’t seem to be an unusual thought. 

She can feel her pulse in her fingertips. She can feel it in her toes. Betty’s pretty sure she can feel it in the tips of her hair if she could concentrate enough to isolate the sensation, but she’s so overwhelmed, so utterly adrift in a sea of sensation that the  _ thump thump thump _ of her pulse is suddenly lost to the onslaught of slickness gushing from her core. The sheets are drenched, cooling by the second and she writhes on the slippery surface, soaking up every bit of relief from the heat burning inside. 

A loud, guttural groan rips from her throat as she presses harder against her neck. Pulling one hand down, she slides her palm along the sweat-soaked skin in a path straight to her core. Something tells her it’ll feel good, it’ll make everything better if she can just - 

She hears a distant thud, the clink of metal hitting the floor. She’s panting and writhing and so fucking hot she can barely breathe when her eyes slip open. Jet black, tousled locks, and olive-toned skin fill her vision. 

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, please.” She’s whining and she doesn’t even know why but she can’t stop the stream of nonsense bubbling up from her chest and floating through the room. She sounds needy because she is, and somehow she knows this person can help.

Then he’s there, covering her, skin on skin, his lips against her neck and she can finally suck in a deep breath. It feels a bit like relief, and a bit more like torture.  _ “Please.”  _ She’s whimpering and wrapping her legs around his hips and she doesn’t even know his  _ name _ . Much less who he actually is or why she wants him to just fucking fuck her already. 

“Shhhh.” His breath is warm against the shell of her ear and her throat throbs in response. “I’ll take care of you, Omega. I’ve got you.” 

His lips press against the pulsing flesh of her neck and she nearly blacks out from the pleasure. She can feel the deep drag of his tongue against the rough patch of skin as she arches into him. It feels like silk against sandpaper and  _ she can’t get enough _ . 

“More,” she begs, panting as his fingers find her folds. Another gush of slickness drips down her cunt, seeping into the already soaked sheets and she can barely feel the pressure of his fingers skirting around where she needs him the most. “Please.”

She keens when two fingers dip inside of her sopping wet slick. As they pump in and out, she finally feels the tiniest bit of relief. Pheromones clog the room, thick as fog, blanketing every inch of her skin and sending her sense into a freefall.  _ You’re pleasing your Alpha _ . _ He likes this. Come for him. _

She isn’t even sure when it starts, the steady gush of fluid over his fingers or the cries ripped from her throat, she isn’t even aware the sounds bouncing off the small, nondescript room are from her until they’ve nearly subsided. But even then, it’s not enough.  _ Not nearly enough. Never enough for Alpha. _

His lips seal around the gland on her neck again as his fingers slip from between her dripping lips. A coppery tang coats her tongue and only then does she realize she’s biting her lip hard enough to bleed. Then, she feels it, the smooth skin of the head of his cock dragging between her drenched folds and she lifts her hips, begging him to fuck her hard, fast,  _ deep. Knot inside me, Alpha. _

“Alpha.” Her voice curves and cracks around the word as he sheathes himself in her heat. 

The noise she hears sounds foreign and inhuman, even to her own ears, as though no person should be able to make that sound. But none of it matters because it  _ is _ her, and he’s inside of her, filling her up in a way that doesn’t even seem possible. She feels fit to burst at the seams with the onslaught of  _ sensation _ that rips apart her reason. 

The scents surrounding them feel filthy - mixed bits of his and hers and something uniquely  _ theirs _ peppering the air and flavoring every gasping breath as he pulls back and plunges in again. He’s whispering promises of  _ taking care of her  _ and telling her  _ what a good girl she is  _ and she’s nearly there again with his affirmations alone, cresting over a peak that’s higher than any she’s ever felt. 

Her nails bite into the soft flesh of his shoulders, carving semi circles into his back as they drag down the length of his spine and carve her presence into his skin.  _ Mine. My Alpha. I’ll be so good _ , she wants to croon, but some lingering part of her brain screams that it’s too soon and she can’t even fathom a second without him inside of her. 

The fire flooding her veins is overwhelming. She’s too hot, too turned on, too close to completion and she can’t even think of a single thing beyond how amazing everything feels this very instant. Teeth scrape over the gland at the side of her neck and she keens, her back arching off the bed and the walls of her dripping cunt squeezing him, holding him inside of her as she feels his knot begin to swell. Another gush of slick floods through her folds as she thinks of taking his knot, thinks of it stretching her so wide she thinks it might tear her apart. A little niggling voice cooing in the back of her mind tells her she can take it. She can take his knot and let it fill her up with her seed. She can squeeze every last drop of his spend and mate him.  _ Bite me _ . She almost says it, her teeth sinking so far into her lips she feels the split reopen and the coopery tang of blood flood her tongue. The way his lips suction to her glad, tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh and teeth scraping lightly has her head spinning. Only after she feels the knot continue to swell and his thrusts diminish to choppy slaps does she realize her lips are spilling sweet nothings, chanting  _ Alpha  _ and  _ Mine  _ and  _ Fill me up  _ over and over and over again.

The warm sputs of his spend coat her insides and she feels the heat abating with each soothing coat. He comes for entire minutes inside of her, gripping her hips and sucking her gland and she can’t help the way her cunt milks him of every last drop.

When his grunts subside and his lips slowly peel away from the tender skin of her neck, knot still locked firmly inside of her still-throbbing folds, she twists her head to meet the ice blue of his eyes. She feels more lucid in the moment than she has for a while. Even the night before, her otherwise overactive brain and impeccable ability to rationalize felt fuzzy at best. But now, with him stretched over her, the lean lines of his muscles in full view and the steady pulse of his length still buried deep inside of her, she feels like she can finally breathe. 

Based on what she’s read, she knows the lucidity won’t last long. For the next few days, it’ll come and go in short bursts only after she’s achieved climax. But for now, with the edge of his lips curling up and the soft set to his eyes, she can’t help but let a small smile creep up on her own face. 

“Hi.” She knows it sounds silly. They’re quite literally connected in the most intimate of ways but she can’t think of anything else to say. “I’m Betty.”

“Jughead.” It comes out as more of a grunt than a word and she’s not sure if it’s actually his name or simply some unintelligible thing he’s said with his Alpha brain still fully intact. But when he repeats, “Jughead Jones,” she realizes it is, in fact, what he prefers to be called. “Nice to meet you.”

A giggle bubbles up from her chest and she can feel a flush entirely unlike the scorching heat that’d nearly burned her alive just hours before creep across her skin. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love and hugs in the world for my wonderful beta and even better friend [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com)

  
  


“So you found the hotel alright?” It seems regular conversation isn’t fit for their current state, but Betty doesn’t know what else to say. 

“I did.” His drawl soothes her frayed nerves. The guise of familiarity afforded by the blanket of pheromones coating every molecule of air in the room helps ease the tension she’s sure would be evident any other time. “I’m sorry I was late. It was a long drive.”

Her lips curl and she tries her best to suppress the silly grin that’s threatening to split her cheeks. “It seems you made it just in time.”

With a pointed glance down to where they’re still firmly connected, he can’t help but laugh a little. “It seems that I did.”

“Thank you, by the way. I know this is kind of crazy. I’ve never done this before but I really do appreciate you being here for - for this. I didn’t know—” 

He cuts her off with the gentle press of his lips against her already parted mouth. “No need to thank me.” The words are whispered over her lips before he’s kissing her again. 

Instinctively, she feels the pulse of his cock, still knotted between her soaked thighs and sinks into the kiss. Her fingers card through thick, inky locks, gripping and twisting when he deepens the kiss. Shifting just slightly, never pulling his lips from hers, he hikes up her leg and twists onto his side, bringing her with him as he lays them back on the bed. She’s draped over his chest, her tongue exploring every inch of his mouth when the low rumble of his moan has her skin flushing again. 

This time, the heat that creeps over her is different. It laces up her spine and spreads down every inch of her bare limbs. It twists and turns in her veins and flows like lava, inch by inch, coating her nerves and bathing her in a need so intense she can feel her mind slipping away again. 

_ Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. _

It thrums through her brain instinctively and beats in time with her erratic pulse. He’s barely softened and slipping through her folds and she already wants him nestled between her thighs again. 

Some part of her knows they should talk. They should know more than simple names and discuss what’s going to happen for the next few days, but that part of her brain is buried under the molten heat burning away every bit of rationale she would otherwise possess. All that matters in the moment is him and her and how badly she needs to know what a  _ good girl  _ she is. 

She whines as her leg slips to the other side of his hips, grinding against his softened cock and panting into his mouth. 

“I’ve got you.” It’s like salve to a fresh burn, soothing her fiery skin. His affirmations send a chill up her spine. “Good girl. Let Alpha take care you, love. I’ll take care of you.”

The needy whimper she emits would be downright embarrassing at any other time, but right now, right here, she can’t even think. “ _ Alpha, please _ .” 

With her hands firmly planted on his chest, she lifts up, pushing her hips against his and feeling the drag of her slick against every inch of his impossibly large length. The tip of his cock prods through the folds, dragging her arousal from the top of her clit to the opening of her still-dripping cunt. Another gush of liquid heat pulses from within her and she’s speeding up, feeling the way the soft skin parting her folds turns to steel by the second. 

He’s propped up on his elbows in an instant, lifting his hips to enter her in a slow and steady thrust. Tilting her head back, a low moan rips from her throat and fills the room, bouncing off the barren walls. She drives her hips down and grinds against him. Palming her own breasts, she whines again. She needs more. She needs him. She needs his knot and she needs his words and she needs his hands to trace every inch of every curve that makes up her body right this second. 

“Please.” It spills unhindered from her lips and she doesn’t even know what she’s asking for. She just knows she needs  _ more. _

“Good girl.” His voice is like sandpaper on her nerves, gravely, low, lighting her up and setting her very soul on fire as she rides him faster and faster. She feels raw and ripped open, expertly flayed down to the very marrow of her bones, laid out and ready for him to devour her. 

“Let me take care of you.” His breath is on her neck again and her eyes are so firmly pressed shut she doesn’t even know when he fully sat up. One hand caresses her right gland while his tongue laves the delicate flesh of the left. Sparks flow through her veins and she’s keening again, so close yet not quite  _ there _ until he nips at the skin. As the blunt edge of his teeth digs into the soft spot, she sees the stars. Whole galaxies light up behind her lids as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. She wants to count the constellations until she’s pulled from her reverie by the heat of his mouth wrapping around the pebbled peak of her nipple and pulling at the hypersensitive flesh. 

She’s chanting  _ Alpha _ and she doesn’t even pause to process the possibility of whether she can come again. It’s all so natural, the biological imperative driving her forward as she feels her walls flutter around his growing knot again. Searing lips trail from one breast to the other and the swell between her legs feels divine. He reaches his peak at the same time as she crashes over the edge. She’s pulling every drop of his seed into her with such force that he grunts against her sternum, his forehead resting just below the hollow of her throat and his fingers digging into the thin layer of flesh coating her hips. She can feel the press of each fingertip and hopes he leaves bruises. The very thought of his marks on her skin sends her mind headlong into bliss as hot strips coat the walls of her cunt. 

With his knot swollen and locked inside of her still pulsing pussy, she has the brief notion that nothing had ever felt so right. She’s panting when he finally pulls back, lifting his head with lust glazed eyes locking onto her own. 

“So beautiful,” her murmurs, skimming his knuckles against the flush of her cheeks. 

Leaning forward, she presses him back against the pillowtop and seals her mouth over his. Trading long, languid kisses, she sinks into him, spread across his chest with her fingers twisted into the matted mess of hair atop his head. Their lips and tongues dance along the dips and curves of each other’s mouths, learning every inch as she memorizes the feel of him pressed so firmly against her. He’s solid where she’s soft, hard and lean and long in a way that feels so right it can’t possibly be wrong. One hand trails down his jaw to his shoulder, flitting over the gland there and she smells the rush of his pheromones as she strokes the soft skin. He hums against her lips as his own hands find purchase against her hips. She thinks his fingertips dig in against the same spots, a delicious ache blooming as heat swirls in her tummy. 

Now that she feels slightly more aware, she thinks about what she’s read. The first few days of her first heat are supposed to be the most intense. He’s gone into a full rut naturally to fulfill her own needs. His scent is filling the air and she thinks she can distinguish their natural musks now, more familiar with the way he smells and what it does to her own scent. His scent is heavenly, like sandalwood and sweat and she doesn’t think anything has ever smelled as good before. Their chemistry seems to be compatible. It makes sense. After all, they did sign up for a rigorous matching process with the  _ Mate Me  _ site and that _ 92% _ flashes behind her lids. Trailing from mouth to his cheek, she strokes down to the juncture of his neck before succumbing to her desires and sucking on the sensitive skin as she tastes his essence. 

It’s  _ divine _ . 

Betty can’t help but moan as the flavor caresses her taste buds and fills her senses. Something about him just feels so right and no amount of rationale can dislodge the thought.

Tilting his head to the side, his lips part to pant heated breaths against her cheek. Pulling away from his neck with as much willpower as she’s sure she’s ever possessed, Betty lifts her head to meet his molten stare. Only now does she realize his eyes aren’t quite the ice blue she’d earlier assumed. They’re speckled with bits of silver and lighter than they’d been an hour ago. The glaze of his own climax is slowly wearing off in time with the softening of his knot inside of her and she’s hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. All she wants to do is talk to him, get to know the drawl of his voice and the man beneath the profile she’d matched so highly with, but her lids grow heavy and her mouth stretches into a yawn.

Something shifts in his expression and then he’s gently pushing her to the side, laying her back against the pillows and stroking her cheeks. In her haze, she can barely make out his affirmations of  _ good girl _ and  _ perfect.  _ The last word she hears before she slips into a dead sleep with his arms secured snugly around her and her back flush against his chest sends another shiver down her spine -  _ Mine. _

-

Jughead’s chest rises and falls in time with the steady thump of Betty’s pulse. Based on the slow, even breaths puffing across his chest, he thinks she’s probably asleep. Trailing his fingers down her spine, he focuses on the smooth, silky skin. 

If anyone had told him a mere few weeks ago that he’d have an Omega of his own one day, he might have scoffed at the notion.  _ Not his own,  _ he corrects.  _ Not forever _ . At least for the duration of her heat, he can pretend that maybe she  _ is  _ his - that maybe she  _ wants _ to be. 

In a world with far more Alphas than Omegas,  Jughead tried not to even entertain the idea that he'd ever find a mate. It was too painful, too unlikely. Up until that point, if he hadn’t had bad luck, he wouldn’t have had any luck at all. So when he’d heard the telltale ding of the _ Mate Me _ app and her pretty picture had flooded his screen, he’d tried his best to temper any expectations that might have roared to life. 

Alpha instincts were a hard thing for Jughead to deal with in his earlier years. Even before he’d fully presented, he’d felt the surges of hormones alter his moods. The anger he’d sometimes let bubble up would be overwhelming and he’d snap at the smallest of things. His father was an Alpha as well, so with a bit of guidance just before he’d reached maturity, Jughead started taking suppressants to mitigate his desires. Soon enough, it went from all-consuming rushes of hormones to mere inklings in the back of his mind. 

Omegas weren’t entirely unheard of, but a mated match was rare nonetheless. Plenty of Alphas wound up without an Omega and lived long and happy lives. But that hadn’t been his own experience. Watching the decline of his parents marriage had been a harsh blow to the idealistic notions he’d once had as a kid. Love and marriage didn’t go hand in hand; marrying someone didn’t always mean happily ever after. 

Signing up for  _ Mate Me _ had been an impulsive decision - one made with a few too many drinks to drown the burgeoning need that suppressants could only keep at bay for so long. Finding Betty had been like a dream.

After being on the site for a little more than a few months, he’d talked to a few matches, yet hadn’t met with or helped any of them through their heats. Normally, a message would come through with a time and a date and a simple request. Often times, the grammar alone, or lack thereof, would cause him to leave the messages marked read with no reply. But then Betty, sweet Betty with her snappy quips and too-tight ponytail happened into his matches and for the first time, he’d wanted to see it through.

Weaning himself off the suppressants was a process, one undertaken over the course of a week and a decision he questioned with near-constant scrutiny. Originally, when he told his father he’d be going on a trip in the near future, he’d been met with a grunt and told the Serpents needed him. Only after asserting it was his decision and he’d do as he pleased, albeit with a bit of a frightening growl due to the weaning suppressants, did he father finally understand.  _ Omegas are trouble, boy.  _ As much as he’d trusted his father once upon a time, he couldn’t rectify the warning with the sweet words and even sweeter picture he’d concocted in his mind of what it might be like to be with her. 

Staring down at the supple curves pressed against him, Jughead thinks about what he’d been expecting. He feels more coherent now than he has in hours. The swell of his knot is still locked inside of her and the echoes of her breathy moans are playing on repeat between his ears. He hadn’t told his dad when he was leaving, simply left a note when he was sure FP was too drunk to notice his absences and hopped on his bike for the two and a half hour drive. He’d made it in two hours and been flooded with sensation the second he walked down the hall to her room. The “heat hotel” was pulsing with pheromones. The perfumed air nearly choked him until he finally found the room number matching the key in his hand and pushed through the door. 

She’d been a vision of pure sin, writhing and panting and touching her slick when he’d walked through the door. There was never even a second thought as he tugged his shirt over his head and quickly unfastened the buckle of his belt. With each step, he shed a layer of clothes until he was just as bare as she was and he crawled over her.

Now that he can think clearly, it’s a little funny that they’d seemingly done this whole thing backwards. He hadn’t even told her his name until his knot was already swollen inside of her molten heat. Her breathy little  _ hi _ had set a flutter in his chest before the smile that followed had washed away any of his doubts.

The room smells sweet, yet salty, tangy with the thick fog of pheromones. He can nearly taste their combined essences and it makes his mouth water a little even as he feels the swell of his knot begin to fade away. They’ll have to talk at some point, but being in rut leaves so little room in his brain for reason while she’s asking him for everything he wants nothing more than to give her. 

A soft sigh ghosts across the still-sweaty skin of his chest and for once in his life, Jughead tries to simply live in the moment. The warmth of her heat and the lay of her body across his has his heart stuttering in his chest and he savors the seconds before he, too, allows himself a bit of rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll be glad to know chapter 3 is well under way!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little story and I'm trying to lay out the universe it's set in as well as possible without going XYZ is this. So, I hope it makes sense so far and I appreciate every single comment/kudos even if i am the absolute worst at replying.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank youuuuu to [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com) for her tidbits of genius. Her care and consideration for the plot and characters make my words 1000x better. (psssst... she also has some amazing abo stories of her own. check them out on [her ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden))
> 
> ALSO - this little thing is going to end with chapter 6 as of right now! Thanks for taking this ride with me <3

Blinking awake, Betty feels like her soul is on fire. She’s burning from the inside out again as she clenches her thighs and finds something solid yet soft nestled between them. A whine slips from her lips as she grinds against the man still slumbering underneath her. 

“Alpha,” she whimpers, rubbing her palm against his pec and pressing her center into his growing bulge. “Alpha, please.”

A low rumble vibrates against her cheek and her nails bite into the curve of his chest. A warm palm flexes against the supple flesh of her hip before tightening and pulling her in. It feels like a fantasy as he easily slips between her folds, long languid thrusts cooling the fire inside of her veins. Nonsensical things are being mumbled against her temple as she nuzzles her nose into the delectable bit of skin at the nape of his neck. 

He tastes like heaven, like honey on her tongue with a hint of spice. She knows so little right now, but she can’t help but think that nothing else could possibly taste this sweet. With one leg thrown over his hip, she arches into his chest and laves her tongue along his scent gland. Bursts of his pheromones coat her senses and she’s floating again, rising and falling with the snap of his hips and the sweet taste of his skin. 

It takes no time at all for her to crest the peak that creeps higher and higher each time they come together. A rush of slick drips down her thighs as his thrusts begin to stutter and the pressure of his swell just barely beings to stretch. He pulls back the swollen base of his cock, and she whines, before hot bursts of his spend are painting the inside of her walls. She can feel every pulse inside of her heat and it’s a balm, soothing the burning desire that’s threatening to swallow her whole.

Bleary-eyed, she blinks, finally looking up to find his gaze trained on her features. It feels as though she’s failed. He wouldn’t knot her and she doesn’t know why. Even though some part of her knows it’s the Omega instinct, it still hurts to think that she’s not being _ good. _ For a girl who’s spent her entire life being as perfect as possible for everyone but herself, the need to please him feels familiar, albeit much stronger than she’s ever experienced. 

“Was I - Was I not good?” Her lips purse and her brow dips as she studies his expression. _ Alpha isn’t pleased. He wouldn’t knot you. _

“You were perfect.” The deep rumble of his voice has her walls tightening around his still erect cock and it just doesn’t make any sense. 

“But, but your knot…” She trails off, confused and fuzzy and feeling entirely too vulnerable to still be wrapped around him. 

He laughs just a little and shakes his head as a small smile curls at the edges of his lips. Then she feels an entirely different rumble under her as his stomach roars to life.

Leaning down to capture her lips in a lazy kiss, his fingers tighten against her hips and lifts her off. “We need to eat, Betty. As much as I’m enjoying,” he pauses, gesturing to the whole of still stark naked body, “all of this. And believe me, _ I am. _” The growl in his voice sends a shiver up her spine and she feels the heat seep into her bones again. “I need to eat something, and you should, too.”

She pouts and whines and a flash of her five-year-old self after having a toy taken away blinks into her mind. She guesses it’s not far off. He’s not quite a toy but she sure does love to play with him. “I’m not hungry.” As much as she’s aware of the fact that she probably should eat, and drink, and maybe even clean herself up, all she wants to do is curl around his solid form and ride him into oblivion until the heat subsides. 

A serious expression creeps onto his features as his eyes flit back and forth between the pout on her lips to the furrow of her brow. 

He schools his features and a hardened edge paints the jut of his jaw as she feels a low growl inch across her skin. “_Let me take care of you _.” It’s his Alpha voice. The steady inkling of heat blossoms into a full-fledged fire and she tenses. “I’ll feed you and bathe you and hold you and fuck you senseless for the next few days, Betty, but for right now, you need to eat.”

Even though it’s a definite command, and Betty has never been very good at listening to anyone boss her around, she melts under the weight of his voice and dips her head in a nearly imperceptible nod. 

-

Drops of juice trail down his jaw and she licks every line as it forms. They’re gorging on a bowl full of the sweetest fruit and feeding one another piece after piece. He nips at her fingers as she presses a piece of fruit to lips and she can’t help but wiggle in his lap. The pressure between her thighs builds with each passing moment. 

“Stop it.” 

A small whimper drips from her parted lips and he growls in response. His fingers flex against the flesh of her thighs and he steadies her still-wiggling hips. 

By the time the bowl is empty and she’s licked his face and neck more than simply clean, she can feel the fever of her heat fraying her nerves. Her tummy is full but she feels decidedly empty without the weight of him inside of her. _ Alpha is pleased_, her brain coos as he smiles at her still perched in his lap. The wide circle of his arms is warm and comforting yet not nearly enough. She wants to melt their skin together, mold herself into putty, and crawl in between every crack and crevice she can find. She wants to sync her own pulse to the steady rhythm of his heart. Only then, she thinks, could she possibly be close enough. The odd thought only barely registers as such before she’s leaning forward to lick a hot stripe against his neck. 

Each time the pheromones flood her senses, she feels the edges of her brain begin to cloud. Wisps of want and curls of craving thread through her very being and she lets the visceral urges carry her away. 

-

Rivulets of water carve paths down the shape of his chest, trailing into the patch of dark hair just above the swell of his cock. She can’t tear her eyes away as he leans his head back and lets the scalding spray wash away the evidence of their earlier romps. Little love bites dot his otherwise unblemished skin and she smiles at the thought of her marks on his body for the days to come. She’ll add more, she decides - sign her name in the dark bruises she’ll suck onto his body. _ My Alpha. Only mine. _

When he finally opens his eyes, they’re nearly black, rimmed with a hint of blue. Snaking an arm around the curve of her waist, he pulls her into the planes of his chest. Just when she thinks he’s leaning down to kiss her, his head pivots and he buries his nose against her pulse, nuzzling her scent gland. 

Long moments pass in relative silence, punctuated by the splash of water against the stark white tile. All she can hear is the mumble of his voice nearly muted by the spray of the showerhead. “Jug,” she breathes, flattening her palms against his shoulders. “Alpha,” she tries this time, instantly feeling him flex his grip. 

Pulling back, he straightens his spine and she sees the glaze of lust in his eyes. One hand slips from her hip and finds purchase between her folds, rolling and sweeping at her throbbing nub. A deep moan fights its way out of her chest as his ministrations continue. 

-

After bringing her climax once with his fingers and again with his mouth under the steady stream of scorching water, Jughead lathers up his hands and slides his palms over every soft inch of her body. Paying special attention to the areas drenched with her slick, he carefully cleans her from head to toe. 

The air is drenched in the scent of their combined arousal. He feels like he might choke on it if it wasn't so perfect, so sweet. Despite the two intense orgasms he’d delivered in the shower just moments before, the second they step out and wrap themselves in towels, she’s on him again, pressed against his bare chest and walking them both back toward the counter. 

He thinks he should say something, praise her for how perfect she is and watch her preen, but her lips are sealed over his and their tongues are tangled in the most delicious way. His hands find purchase on her hips as her towel drops to the floor. One hand cups her rear and she rises to the tips of her toes. He slants his mouth over hers to continue licking and sucking and savoring every taste. 

Hormones are flooding his limbs, trailing up from the tips of his fingers nestled in her sopping wet hair, through every vein his body. She winds her arms around him as he grinds against her. She’s too short in this position, his painfully erect cock pushes against the soft skin of her belly. Just as he’s about to spin her around and set her atop the counter, she pulls back. There’s a gleam in her eye apart from the sheen of lust he’s quickly become accustomed to. He thinks it’s the slightest bit mischievous before she all but confirms it for him with the twitch of a smile ghosting the corners of her lips. 

In an instant, she’s down on her knees, the towel from before padding the tile floor and her nimble fingers shed his as well. 

“Betty—” 

He chokes on a breath, unable to think when her searing lips wrap around the head of his cock, lightly suckling, licking and tasting his essence. She’s so gentle. His perfect little Omega. So small and delicate as she handles the full length of him. Presenting as an Alpha had changed more than just this part of him. When his chest barreled out in a way he’d only seen before on athletes and the muscles in his chest took on a new solid definition, he’d also grown a few inches. Never one to focus on physicality, it hadn’t been something that he paraded around, fucking every girl who looked at him or noticed his designation. He had never truly appreciated what the change in his chemistry had meant until right this second. Now, with his perfect little Omega sucking his cock, licking from base to tip and swirling her tongue around the fleshy head, he’s glad she’s his first. The primitive part of him wants her to be his last, wants him to be _ her _ last. _ Her forever. Her Alpha. _But, the possessive thoughts cease when she hollows out her cheeks and dips her head. It shouldn’t be possible. 

“My perfect little Omega. Taking it all like you were made for me. Good girl.” He babbles praise as she sucks and sucks, bobbing her head to a primal rhythm. His hips cant forward and the affections drip from his lips with every satisfied hum against his hardened length. The vibrations cause his head to fall back, threading his fingers through the blonde tresses, he scrapes his nails against her scalp and she whimpers. 

The sensation of swelling isn’t nearly as strange now as it was their first time. Jughead’s never knotted anyone before, never even had a true desire to until now. Just the thought of stretching her tight cunt, swelling inside of her walls, and painting her cervix with his seed has his edging closer and closer to release. He wants to fuck her. To be inside of her. To ram his cock so far into her velvety heat that he can feel his spend spurt inside of her. He wants to mark every inch of her inside and out and lay his claim for the rest of their days. He wants to sink his teeth deep into the tortured tissue of her neck and lick the bloodied outline of his jaw when he finally mates her.

The thought of his teeth inside of her skin, marking her gland and laying claim to his mate barrels him over the edge.

Never ceasing the steady stream of his praise, he coos about how _ good she is. How perfect she is. His perfect little Omega. Always his. Only ever his. He’ll always take care of her. _It feels like he comes for seconds or minutes, time merely a construct with her lips wrapped around him, shooting his seed into her mouth as she dutifully swallows every last drop. Her eyes lock with his when she releases him, only for her to dip down and lick every inch of his swollen knot. His cock twitches and she smiles. 

He’s still mumbling sweet nothings when she rises to her feet and kisses him again. The salty tang of his release still lingers on her lips. That, combined with her own natural flavor, makes him groan. “Mine.” He’s growling and he knows it, primal in his desire to lay claim to her as his mate. Never before has he wanted someone the way he wants Betty. Her body fits against his in the most perfect way, every curve of her body matches a dip in his own. She’s soft where he’s hard. She’s lean and long and the piece of himself he feels like he’s never had before. 

Languishing in the fluidity of the kisses they trade, Jughead doesn’t even notice her hair drying and her skin cooling until she shivers against him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, he extracts himself from the circle of her arms, pulling his lips from hers to reach down and retrieve the towel. She whimpers when he turns her around to wrap the towel around her lithe frame. Pushing the hair on her neck to one side, he leans down to bury his nose in the nape of her neck. After a long, slow inhale of her scent, his mind is swimming with the urge to taste her and tease her and please her until she’s a writhing mess beneath the sheets. 

A need builds inside of him despite the mind-melting orgasm he’d just experienced. The hormones washing over him prepare him to meet her demands. If she wants him every second of every day for every year to come, he knows he could do that. Just for her. Only for his sweet little Omega. “Good girl,” he breathes against her gland and she leans back into his solid frame, shivering again, though this time she’s not cold; her skin is flushed with heat.

“Jug—” She glances over her shoulder, lashes fluttering in a subconsciously seductive way. “Alpha. I need—” She can’t seem to find the words, her eyes flitting back and forth between his, but it’s okay. He knows. He knows what she needs and he wants to give her everything.

“I’ve got you.” 

Dipping his head again, he drags his tongue along her scent gland. 

“I’ll take care of you. My sweet little Omega. My perfect mate. I’ll _ always _ take care of you.”

The possessive rumble of his bold claim makes her lean back against him as she practically purrs into his ear. 

Towels long forgotten, he takes her to the bed, laying her back against the silky sheets and spreading her wide. “You’re perfect, Betty.” Preening at the praise, she arches off the bed, her hips wiggling, arms stretched above her head. 

Every soft inch of her skin is exposed. Taking his time to study the feel of her skin prickling beneath his fingertips, he starts a slow ascent at her ankle. Running a featherlight touch up and around her calf, dipping behind her knee and trailing up her thigh, he watches her muscles constrict under the whisper of pressure. His lips start a trail toward her center as he lifts her leg up to fit over his shoulder. He wants to taste her again, the slick practically dripping from her folds. Her essence is divine, so perfectly palatable that even in a million years, he knows he could never replicate it. It feels like she’s meant for him, molded to fit into the curve of his arm and shaped to fill in the gaps of his heart. 

Her pheromones are heady. They’re rolling off her naked body in waves as she wiggles against the slick sheets. Sucking in a deep breath, Jughead’s hands slide up and around her hip. Palms splayed against her stomach, he pushes her flat against the mattress. With one long, hot swipe of his tongue, he’s drinking her in, sucking the slick off her body and feeding on elixir. 

It feels a bit like magic: her pull to his push, her whimper to his groan, the way she feels so in tune with him that he thinks he could pluck every string and shatter her into a million pieces. But magic isn’t real, and she very much is. She’s real and ready and he doesn’t even realize she’s whining his name until a sharp tug on his scalp has him looking up. 

“Please. Please. Please, Alpha. I need you.” She’s panting as he crawls up her body. He feels like the predator and she is his prey. “I need you inside of me. Need your knot. Need your—”

He cuts her off with a bruising kiss, his elbows anchored on either side of her head and his hips pressing against the moisture between her swollen folds. It shouldn’t be possible for him to go again so soon, but the biological imperative is strong. His body has felt ready for another round since she licked his knot clean just after the last. 

-

With her sated figure tucked into the crook of his arm, Jughead takes the time to appraise her. The fog of his rut is lifting inch by inch. Even if he tried, he couldn’t accurately count how many times they’d come together that day, or the last. In fact, he wasn’t even quite sure how many days had passed. Glancing over to see his phone sitting on the counter of the kitchenette, he decides not to give a damn about the day of the week and relishes in the warmth of her wrapped around him. He’s still locked inside of her, his knot swollen and pulsing and molded to the tight walls of her heat. 

He thinks they should talk. Her heat will begin to recede in the next few days and he figures it’s no good trying to have a discussion drenched in pheromones anyway. Even though this is his first rut, his first Omega, the first time he’s truly felt like he’s doing what he was born to do - mate and match and have pups with _ his _ Omega - something about her just feels so different. It hadn’t seemed like a strictly biological imperative when she’d whispered his name across the shell of her ear as she fell apart in his arms. It hadn’t felt like purely physical when she’d twisted their fingers together and settled on his chest, purring against him in contentment. It had felt _right_. It had felt _natural_.

_ Tomorrow_, he decides, they’ll talk more tomorrow. They were matched, after all, and 92% compatibility has to mean something more than just physicality. At least, he hopes it does. Tomorrow, he repeats to himself, pulling her tighter against his chest and letting his eyelids sink with the heaviness of the day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little note - I'm going on vacation until October 12th but I already have chapter 4 written! If I can somehow churn out chapter 5 between now and when I leave, I'll post it before, but if not, look for chapter 4 after I return!
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who has read, commented, kudos'd or generally flailed with me in dm's. Your support makes this whole journey so worthwhile. I've never written anything even remotely like this, so knowing some of you enjoy it fuels my muse! 
> 
> I love you all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mountains of thanks to [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com) for continuing to deal with my neuroses and requests for ten thousand rereads. LOVE YOU, FRIEND! (you should ALSO check out [her ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden) for some amazingly sweet and smutty bughead ABO)

The sharp ring of a phone wakes her from a deep sleep. She blinks once, twice, looking around the room to find a small light coming from the source of the noise. With his arm slung over her waist, she can’t easily wiggle out of his hold anyway, so she presses against him, reaching a hand back to card through his tousled locks. “Jug. Jug. Jughead.” She tries and fails to wake him, before turning around and cupping the sharp angle of his jaw, pressing a kiss against the side of his mouth. He doesn’t respond, so she begins peppering his face in little kisses to rouse him from his sleep. She’s sure he’s exhausted. She is, too, but the phone keeps ringing and he’s cracking open an eye, blinking away the sleep before registering the sound. His jaw twitches under her palm and she wants to soothe him, to forget any other sound than his and hers and the chorus they create between their breaths. 

With a grunt, he sits up slowly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching up to stretch the taut muscles of his back. Watching the way they flex and move under the smooth expanse of skin stokes the fiery embers vibrating through her veins. 

It’s a few days in, so she’s come to understand when her biological need begins to take the reins. It starts slowly. A torrid tendril of want threads through her limbs, snaking it ways though the expanse of her body, just under the skin, and seeping into the very marrow of her bones. It scorches her from the inside out, mind-melting fire consuming every opportunity for a coherent thought to breakthrough. It’s not quite burning yet, simply simmering beneath the surface of her skin and pooling low in her abdomen as she watches him pad over to the counter of the kitchenette and pick up the phone. 

Pushing off from the bed, she follows him when she sees his brow crease and his shoulders stiffen. The phone goes quiet for a second before it rings again, signaling whoever is calling will probably continue until he picks it up or turns it off. 

“Uh, give me a second, Betty. I’ll be right back.”

Standing in the center of the room, she watches him wander into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. It’s not quite closed, though, cracked just a hair. Her instincts are telling her to follow her Alpha. 

_ Comfort your Alpha. Be good for him. He needs you. _

The cloud of her heat is still hanging low over her, receded enough for her to know that if he walked into the other room, he needs his space. It aches in a way she’s never felt: the depths of her heart clenching with the notion that he doesn’t want her there right there. Muffled words seep through the crack in the door, but she doesn’t want to eavesdrop. The swell of moisture crests her lashes and she blinks back tears as she goes to nestle between the sheets. A lingering warmth from where his body had just been is only a small comfort. _ Why am I crying? _ She doesn’t know the answer, but also can’t seem to stop. _ You’re not enough for him. Not enough for this Alpha. He’s done with you. _

She tries and fails to push the idea away when she hears the rise of his voice. He’s clearly upset about something and her instincts are clawing at her to get up and go to him. After another beat, another swell of his roar into the phone, she can’t help but get back up and make her way to the bathroom door. Palm splayed against the wood, she pushes it slightly open. 

One hand is locked in his hair, tugging on the already mussed locks, and the other is holding his phone. With a stolen glance, he spots her in the mirror, pressed against the door with wide, red-rimmed eyes. In an instant, the phone is forgotten on the counter and his arms wrap around her still-shaking form. “Betty, baby, what’s wrong?”

As much as she wants to answer him, to say it’s just the hormones and it’s stupid, she can’t find the words. Instead, she squeaks, sucking in a breath and pressing her face against his chest.

“Tell me,” he mumbles, lips dancing across her temple. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m fine,” she breathes, willing the tears and the sinking feeling of just not being good enough to subside. “Who was on the phone?” She’s still sniffling when she leans back. A quick swipe of his thumb under each eye clears away the screen of watery tears. 

Betty can see the apprehension in the stoic set of his features so she unwinds her arms and cups his jaw with warm palms. “I’m just worried about you. You left to take that call and I just...I felt like...I don’t know...I felt like I needed to be with you. I know we haven’t gotten to know each other much yet, but I - I want to be here for you if you need to talk. I _ am _ here for you,” she corrects.

A slight dip of his chin has her own forlorn feelings slowly slipping away. _ Good Omega. Be good for your Alpha. _Her mind is practically purring when he leads her back to the bed, dipping under the covers and pulling her into his lap. It feels like a nest, a warmth of familiarity and comfort and something she’s not sure she’s ever known so soundly. 

Gliding his hands along the outside of her legs, he pulls her closer. “That was my dad. I - I don’t know how to explain this. I haven’t really told anyone these things before and I just…I just want to enjoy our time together, Betty. I know your heat will be over in a few days and you’ll forget all about me—”

She cuts him off with a kiss. “Jughead, I haven’t ever — I mean, I know I told you I haven’t gone into heat before and all, but it’s more than that. I haven’t seriously _ been _with someone before. Truthfully, I’m probably not very good at it but I can promise this.” Resting her forehead against his, she glances up, catching his gaze and taking a deep breath. “I don’t think I could ever forget you. I wouldn’t want to. You have been...This has been...It’s just...It’s been perfect in every way. I can’t say I know what will happen when this is all...over,” she gulps, “but while we’re still here, I want to listen to anything you have to say. You don’t have to worry about telling me things.” Maybe it’s the Omega in her begging him to open up, or maybe it’s her innate need for this connection she can feel rattle her bones at times. “I want to know who you are, Jughead, all of it.”

He takes a deep breath, crushing her to his chest. 

“I’m not that interesting, Betty. I’m a kid from the wrong side of the tracks with parents who spent more time at the bar than with their kids.”

“You have siblings?”

“Yeah. A sister. Jellybean.”

A smile twists on her lips. “Tell me about her.” As much as she’d like to know about the call, the way his eyes light up is worth the slight detour.

“She goes by JB and she’s listened to Pink Floyd on vinyl since she was like ten. She’s the coolest kid I know. Well, she’s not a kid anymore. She’s a teenager and I pity anyone who gets in the way of what she thinks is right.”

“She sounds wonderful, Jug. I think I’d like her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think you would, too.”

Leaning up, Betty presses a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling against his chest as she lays back down. A long moment passes, silence stretching between them before he sucks in a deep breath.

“Jellybean was really young when my parents forgot they were supposed to take care of us instead of the other way around. I always tried to protect her from that side of them but…well, tonight wasn’t a one time occurrence and she’s too smart for her own good. A drunken phone call is hard to cover up when she’s tugging on the phone just trying to say hi to her dad.” A beat passes, then two. “My dad called tonight slurring and ranting and I could barely understand him. Something about Alphas not needing Omegas and I should be _ there _for him not here for me.” She stares up at him, heart-clenching. “He’s just mad because...he’s an Alpha, too. “He’s…” Jughead hesitates. “He’s the leader of the Serpents. It’s a biker gang that’s involved in some not-so-great businesses and I’m supposed to take his place. At least, he expects me to. It feels like everyone expects me to but...I don’t know…” 

Betty pulls back again, placing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “Tell me.”

“What if it’s not what I want? What if I want to do something for myself for once?” The vulnerability in his features causes her heart to clench. 

“Jug, you deserve to make your own path in life. You deserve to make your own choices. If he can’t support your happiness, then maybe you need to find the strength to do it from within.”

Jughead shakes his head, resting his forehead against hers again. “I don’t know, Betty. My whole life has been built around the gang and it always seemed like that’s all it ever could be. But then I graduated with high marks and was offered scholarships to schools I never dreamed of attending.”

“That’s great.”

“I deferred admission for a year, but time is running out and I still feel like I can’t go. Not now. I feel like he needs me and even though I don’t know how to change that, I can’t just leave him.”

“There’s a big difference between leaving someone who needs you and putting yourself first. Trust me, my mom was always the most important person in my life when I lived at home. She monitored my meals, harped on me about extracurriculars, literally ran every aspect of my life from my outfit choices to what I would eat and even who I could be friends with. It wasn’t until I went to school and met my best friend that I realized I wasn’t really living my life for me. I was living to please my mother. Doing anything other than living every day for myself, making decisions I actually wanted to make, is a mistake. Now that I’m more conscious about my decision-making, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I mean, granted, I wasn’t expected this whole heat thing to happen,” she giggles, only just realizing they are both still bare beneath the sheets. “But I wouldn’t change a single day of my life now. Every decision I make, even if it’s wrong, is for me. Maybe you need to find something for you, Jug.”

“How did I get so lucky?” It’s so low she barely hears it, even with the scant space between them. Betty leans forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. 

“I think I’m the lucky one here. From what I read, too many Omegas go through their heats with Alphas that don’t really care about them beyond their designation. You seem real, Jug, and I’m so lucky to have found you.” 

-

His hand glides up, sinking into her loose waves and tugging her back. In an instant, he’s twisting her around, spreading her legs on either side of his hips and kissing the breath from her lungs. It’s not the same fiery passion they’ve been drenched in for the last few days. It’s different somehow: slower, more languid, a lazy coupling that just feels natural. 

Jughead runs his hands over every curve of her body, studying the planes of the lean lines and memorizing the way she feels beneath his fingertips. _ His Omega. His Mate. His Betty. _ She feels like she’s _ his: _ the way she moves when he does, softens in his grip, answers every moan. They’re so in tune with one another that when he reaches down to drive her higher, she’s already crashing over her own climax in time with his completion. 

Laying in bed, her hip thrown over his, still intimately connected, he cards his fingers through her flaxen hair. “Betty?”

“Hm,” she hums, nuzzling into his chest. 

“I need you to know I haven’t…I haven’t done this before. You’re the first Omega I’ve been with. Really, you’re the first I’ve _ wanted _to be with so I just…I want you to know that this means something to me.” Pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, he feels her relax, lazily tracing patterns onto his chest with the tips of his fingers. “I have taken suppressants my entire life. I’ve never gone into rut before and I don’t...I don’t know if I will again with anyone else. Thank you for being you. I know I’m supposed to want you because you’re an Omega, and I do, I really do, but I just want you to know that it feels like more than that for me.”

Propping her head up on the hand splayed across his chest, she smiles. “It’s more than that for me, too. Thank you for helping me. I was honestly really worried you wouldn’t show.”

“I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean to be dodgy or anything, I just wasn’t sure if I could leave town with my dad, well, you know. I didn’t know if I should have stayed. But I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me too, Juggie.” Leaning up, she places a soft kiss to the side of his mouth. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

-

The heat wakes him first, quickly followed by the soft whines seeping into the skin of his chest. They must have dozed off. Betty’s nuzzling her face into his chest and whimpering. All at once, his Alpha instincts kick in. “Shhhhh, I’ve got you little Omega. C’mere.” His voice is still thick with sleep and he isn’t even sure she’s awake but he pulls her up anyway, rolling them over and spreading her legs. 

He can smell her pheromones dripping from every pore and calling to him. 

“Alpha. Alpha, _ pleeeease. _” 

Trailing kisses down the column of her throat, brushing the line between her breasts and dipping low to the apex of her thighs, he laves at her skin. She’s burning up, hot to the touch and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Everything about her feels perfectly concocted to drive him wild. 

One hot lick up her slit and her hips are arching off the bed. Swinging an arm around her hips, he presses her back down. “Shhhh, I’ve got you, baby.” He licks and sucks and works his tongue and teeth over every swollen inch of her sex before spreading her lips open and finding her pulsing nub. Closing his lips around the little bundle of nerves, he sucks until she’s keening, begging, calling for him. 

“Alpha. I need you. Alpha, please.”

When he crawls back up her body, laving a trail of kisses, signing his name into her soft flesh that he wishes would never fade, he finds her dazed. Flushed cheeks and shiny eyes stare up at him as she bites down on her lip. A short _ please _ breaks him from his reverie. 

“Oh my beautiful little Omega. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.” Lining up his length, he pushes into the velvety heat of her center, memorizing the way her walls clench and spasm around him. It’s divine, a level of sensation so perfect he isn’t sure anything in the world could compare. 

He takes his time, dragging himself in and out at torturous pace until beads of sweat drip down her forehead. He licks them off, sucking her skin and tasting her essence in time with each agonizingly slow thrust. 

A deep, gravelly growl crawls up his throat as his proclamations dance against her skin. _ Mine. Only Mine. Always Mine. My beautiful little Omega. You’ll never need anyone else. I’ll always take care of you. _

“Yours,” slips from between her lips, moaned against his temple and he’s coming. Long, hot spurts of his seed paint her walls and she clenches around him, milking him for every drop he can spare. 

-

As soon as he’s sure she’s fast asleep, Jughead slips off the side of the bed. Padding softly into the kitchenette, he finds his phone. No other calls have come through and he breathes a sigh of relief, pressing the power button and watching the screen blink to black. Stuffing it into the bottom of his barely-touched duffle bag, he thinks maybe making decisions for himself isn’t the worst idea in the world. Gently pulling back the sheets, he crawls in next to Betty. It only takes a second for her to sense him, turning over and wrapping her arms around his chest. He thinks he could get used to this. Maybe that line of thinking is dangerous. Any discourse fades away as he closes his eyes and lets the crippling exhaustion pull him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek! I hope this chapter delivered the emotional punch I was hoping for!
> 
> Comments & kudos ALWAYS appreciated. Please let me know what you all think of their serious conversation!
> 
> I can't wait to finish this story with you all and hope you love what's still to come!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com) for being my constant cheerleader and a sharp set of eyes. Seriously, this fic wouldn't be half of what it is without her brilliant mind. (If you haven't yet, you should ALSO check out [her ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden) for some of my favorite bughead ABO)

The smell of something foreign wafts through the fog of pheromones and drags her from sleep. The clank of a dish and a distinct sizzling sound causes her to groan as Betty pulls the pillow over her head and tries her hardest to block out the noise. 

She is _ exhausted. _

A few days of little sustenance and mind-melting heat sex have sapped her of energy and the smell that might be enticing on any other day simply turns her stomach. Fingertips run down the length of her spine, gliding across the bare skin still warm from her heat. 

“Betty. Betty, wake up.” She thinks if she stays perfectly still he might let her go back to sleep. “Time to get up. I’ve made us something to eat.”

The prospect alone sounds disgusting this early in the morning, this far into her heat. While her rational side knows sustenance is needed, her inner Omega craves something else. She wants to be full — just not full of any kind of food, and certainly not whatever’s on the stove emitting such a putrid scent. 

“Nooooo,” she whines, shimmying into one of the sheets. He laughs at that, flattening his palm against her back and sliding his hand under the edge of the sheet where its pooled at her waist. 

“Just a few bites, love. Let me take care of you.” The sentiment warms her from the inside out. While it’s sweet he wants to care for her, she has other ideas of exactly _ how _ he can do that.

Rolling over, she peeks her head out from under the fluffy pillow. It’s truly unfair how utterly adorable he looks this early in the morning. She’s sure her own hair is a far cry from the stylishly tousled locks atop his head. Hers is probably matted in thick waves, sticking up every direction in a distinctly unflattering manner; but his looks as though it was intentional. 

A fleeting thought of mornings spent between her own sheets with his smooth hands skirting the curves of her waist intrigues her, but she pushes it away in an instant. Entertaining such enticing ideas isn’t a good idea right now. They’ve barely talked about what any of this might mean outside of her heat and even then, anything he says doused in her pheromones can’t be taken seriously. 

With every day that passes, she can think a bit more clearly. Her heat must be wearing off, and the idea of not being near him, near her Alpha, day in and day out sends a pang of hurt straight to her heart. 

Her body overrides her fear of loss, however, a dribble of slick sliding between her lips from the fantasy of having him again outside of the pheromone induced fog. The gland on the side of her neck starts throbbing and a low whine sounds from the back of her throat. 

They have another day, maybe two, and she wants nothing more than to feel him buried between her legs for the rest of the time they _ do _ have together. While they may not have spoken the affirmations of affection aloud, she can read it in each of his reverent touches. 

_ Make Alpha happy. Show him you can be a good mate. _

Only a sliver of blue is visible behind the inky depths of his pupils, blown wide from the fog of her pheromones and the scent of her slick. Another gush coats her thighs and she rubs them together, whining and whimpering as the urge to make him happy, to fuck him and milk him dry, take his seed, his spend, and give him pups in return builds to an all-consuming need.

“Out of bed, Omega,” he practically growls. Unable to resist an Alpha command, _ her _ Alpha’s command, her body bends and she shifts off the bed. “I’ll take care of you, but first I need you to eat something.”

She doesn’t _ want _ to eat, at least not what he’s prepared. She wants to suck his seed straight from the tap and feel him fill out every empty inch of her insides. She wants to tell him she’ll be good, she’ll be _ so good, _but her body stands of its own accord and her hand slips into his as he leads her to the small kitchenette. 

When he stops, she walks another step, fitting the bare lines of her body into every dip of his own. It’s made for her, she thinks, the space between his arms, the space around his heart. Pressing her breasts into his back, her arms wind around his waist and she stands on her tiptoes to nuzzle the delicious-smelling gland nestled in the curve of his neck. Feeling the shiver pass through each plane of muscle, she does it again, peeking out her tongue to lick the succulent flesh. 

Strong hands land on top of hers against his stomach and he pulls them away only to turn toward her again. Slick seeps from her sodden folds and she whimpers, “_Please, Alpha,” _ before he can protest.

She isn't sure whether it’s the biological imperative or his own mounting desire, but the small of her back bumps against the counter and he towers over her with a hand on either side of her hips. “Is this what you want, Omega?” Lifting a hand to trail down the curve of her hip, inching toward her aching core, she nods. _ “Say it.” _The rumble of the command sends another gush of slick down her thighs and she can feel it track down to her knees.

“Please,” she whispers, then whimpers, practically vibrating with the need to feel his hands, his mouth, his cock, his knot, _ anything _fill her until she feels like she can’t breathe. “Please fuck me, Alpha.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, tracing the line of her hip with featherlight touches that drive her mad.

Practically preening at his praise, Betty captures his lip in a searing kiss. Her heat may be fading, but the Omega holds the reins to her sanity at the moment and it’s feral in its desire to claim him, mate him, show him exactly how _ good _ she can be. 

One finger circles the nub of her sex, not quite touching where she wants him the most. “Please,” she whimpers again, and he smiles against her hips before nuzzling her own gland. Each slow circle of his fingers drives her further into the fog of her Omega brain. When his broad tongue licks a stripe across her aching flesh, she keens, canting her hips into his hand, begging for more. 

“Is this what you want, my little Omega? Hmm,” he hums, tracing the line of her slit and dipping a finger into her soaking lips. “Do you want me to touch you right here? Fuck you against this counter? Take you in the kitchen and knot you until your legs shake?”

Another flood of slick drips down her thighs and her knees knock together as she tries to stay upright. “Yes. Yes, Alpha.”

“Good girl.” Lips close around his pounding pulse, laving his throbbing gland and she sucks on the sensitive skin as he breaches her entrance with two fingers. 

-

Nimble fingers pick at the eggs on the plate in front of her, lifting little sections to her lips as she nibbles on the food he’d prepared. “Good girl. My perfect little, Omega.” His knot is still snug in her soaking cunt and she’s seated on his lap on the kitchen floor, unable to move an inch after the furious coupling just a short while before. He’d brought her to climax with his fingers, then his tongue, until she _ begged _ for the knot he’d so willingly given her just after. 

She should be embarrassed by the way she pleaded for his cock, his knot, but her Omega side is preening, humming, and purring from his sweet words. 

The swelling finally subsides and he lifts her from his lap only to deposit her back on the bed. Turning around, she feels his loss as he wanders back into the kitchen, cleaning up the breakfast she’d barely eaten.

When the bed dips beneath the weight of his knees, she crawls to the edge to pull him in. “Jug,” she breathes, settling on her side pressed against the planes of his chest, “I don’t want this to end.”

His arms settle around the curve of her waist, pressing a soft kiss to her mess of curls. “Me neither.” It’s whispered, barely audible over the thump of her heart, and she hopes she’ll remember this exact moment in a few days. Most of her heat has been spent in a daze. Small flickers of memories still linger, but large chunks are lost to the burn of her consciousness. 

-

Scalding drops fall from the showerhead, diluting the thick stench of sex in the small space. She’s wrapped in his arms, her head leaned back on his shoulder and his fingers are plucking at her peaks and her clit while his lips sink promises into her soaking skin. 

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you. My perfect little, Omega. My beautiful, Betty. You’ll _ always _be mine.”

-

Sated, spent, coated in a fresh layer of sweat and sex, they’re tangled in the bed. A mountain of blankets lines the outside of the mattress and a fortress of pillows surrounds them in the mess they’ve made of their nest. His tongue keeps slipping, sliding promises between each kiss and worshipping her with his words, but he can’t help it, and he has no inclination to stop. Whether she’ll believe it outside of her heat or not, it’s all true. 

“You could come stay with me in New York for a few days if - if you want.” It’s mumbled against his chest and he keeps tracing four little letters on her back. 

Clearing his throat, he sits up, tugging her prone form into his chest and tipping her chin to meet his gaze. “I want,” he breathes, before he can even think otherwise. 

“Really?” Wide eyes shine up at him and he smiles in return. 

“Really.”

-

He’s slept on and off for the better part of the last two days, waking only to take her from every angle and any hour her heat demands. His perfect little Omega is coming to the end of her first heat and he’s already dreading the look in her eyes when the glaze of lust no longer shines. 

As an Alpha, he knows his role. It’s his job to take care of her and he’d happily make it his life’s work if she’d have him, but it’s also her first heat, and his first rut. Exploring the budding feelings outside the room drenched in their scent will be an entirely different venture. While physically, they’ve proven they’re more than simply compatible, he worries she may not feel the same out in the real world. This nest they’ve made, this room so steeped in their scent is _ theirs _ — for now, his own mind reminds him. The thought of waking up without her — _ his Omega _— is nearly too painful to fathom. 

Texts cover at length what it means for an Omega to find an Alpha: they’ll go to the ends of the earth for their Alpha, thrive off near constant praise, and literally bend over backwards to make them happy in every single way. They don’t, however, go into depth about what it means for an Alpha to find _ his _ Omega. For Jughead, it means something entirely different than he’d initially thought. His every waking moment is dedicated to making _ her _ happy, to pleasing her, to taking care of her every need physically and otherwise. 

While the biological imperative may have driven him to create a profile and seek her out, it pales in comparison to his own desire to keep her around, keep her happy, see her through every heat from now until the end of their days.

-

The next time he wakes, she’s whining and writing against him, mumbling _ Alpha Alpha Alpha _ in her sleep. Sweat-dampened curls cling to her forehead and his primal side kicks into overdrive. 

“Shhhhh.” His breath coats the side of her neck, the pinkened flesh of her glad he’s laved and sucked and wanted _ so fucking badly _ to sink his teeth into. It looks like it was made for him, the perfect size for his incisors to claim, but he’s never been one to push someone into something they don’t truly want, and without the proper conversation _ outside _of her heat, he’s certainly not going to listen to her pheromone laden pleas. 

Bracing an arm on either side of her shoulders, he looms over her on the bed. The tips of his fingers trace the line of her jaw and his lips press against hers, pouring his devotion into the kiss to wake his whimpering little Omega. 

_ She needs you. She needs your knot, your seed. _

With her legs spread on the bed, he slips into her slick heat, welcoming the warmth of her velvety core and watching her eyes flutter open. “I’ve got you, baby,” he coos, brushing the curls back from her shoulder before licking her gland. It tastes divine, now mingled with his own scent, a heady combination of him and her and what they could be. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll _ always _take care of you.”

Keening, she presses up into him, sinking her nails into his shoulders and tracing reverent tracks down the length of his spine. He hopes the lines never fade. He hopes they scar into his skin and he never forgets this perfect little Omega in his arms and the dream of her first heat spent in his arms. 

Long, slow strokes build them both up toward release. It’s not fast and hard, unlike so many times before, but slow, languid, a pace set to savor with each thrust of his hips. He wants her to remember his, to remember his knot, his seed, the scent of his need on his skin for days, months, _ years _ to come. He certainly can’t forget, and he hopes she can’t either.

Pushing into her over and over again, he soaks in her pleas, the whispers of affection he wants so badly to believe. Nothing has ever felt so right. Nothing has ever felt quite this good, and he tries not to tell himself it’s some twist of fate, tries not to believe she’s made for him, made for this, made to give him the pups his Alpha needs, the life his heart longs for, because if reality is even an inch off from his fantasy, he isn’t sure he can handle it. 

Lost in the dream that is their coupling, he captures her lips, mumbling against her lips about how _ good she is, how perfect she is, how her cunt milks his cock and takes his knot like it was crafted just for him _.

Shattering moments after the last word, she clings to his body and presses her breasts against his chest as she kisses him until she drinks the very air from his lungs. Up could be down, the sky could be green, and the world could end right then and there, but all Jughead can think about is how a life without Betty Cooper may be no life at all after this.

-

Knowing the next time she wakes up, she may no longer be a slave to her Omega side, he tries his hardest not to dwell on what’s at stake. He’s scenting her with his lips, his tongue, dragging his teeth across every inch of her smooth skin. At the very least, if she leaves and he doesn’t see her again, despite her invitation to visit, he wants every Alpha in the entire world to _ smell _ him on her. He wants any Alpha who dares to even look at her to scent him on every inch of her body and stay the fuck away from her — from _ his _ Omega. He’s never felt quite this primal, this possessive, but with her heat ending and the future uncertain, he wants to ensure their time together lingers in her very pores. 

  
Even if he does come to visit her, which he has seriously been considering, there will still be a few days she’ll be exposed to any Alpha who feels like moving in on her making a pass. Not that he thinks she'd fall for it. She did invite him to see her, after all. But the Alpha in him still needs to know his scent will linger on her skin. Swiping two fingers through the folds of her sex, he gathers their combined seed, spreading it across her glands, then his, because as much as he wants everyone to know she is his, he also needs the opposite to be true. Because in a matter of days, somehow this sweet little Omega, _ his Omega, _ has wormed her way into his heart. So as primal as his urge is to claim her, he needs everyone who dares to even look at him to know she has also claimed him. One final swipe of his coated fingers across each gland, and he finally allows himself to slip off into what may be their final rest before they part ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... How do we all feel?
> 
> We're in the home stretch, guys & gals! Only one more chapter to go!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for all the sweet reviews, notes, kudos, and comments. Every single one of them is so very appreciated. 
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and how the story is wrapping up!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe so much to my lovely beta and friend [@lovedinapastlife](https://lovedinapastlife.tumblr.com). I am not the easiest person in the world to beta for and she has been an absolute rockstar and cheerleader throughout this entire process. (She also has some excellent abo stories on [her ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden) if you’re itching for more after this chapter as well as many other amazing fics)

Shadows still coat every inch of the room when Betty blinks awake. Her lids are heavy, body limp, and it takes her a moment to register what woke her in the first place. A gentle pressure against her hip and the press of a palm smoothing over her breast sends a rush of pleasant warmth through every inch of her extremities. She hums as nimble fingers pluck at a nipple and presses back against his hardening length. 

He’s whispering something, low, muted, said directly into the column of her neck. She can’t make out much beyond _ beautiful _ and _ perfect. _Blushing, nonetheless, she turns within his arms to see the faint outline of sleep-tousled hair before his lips are on hers. 

It’s a slow, languid dance, a stark contrast to the punishing, heat of the moment ones they’ve shared the last few days. When his hand slides down her belly, cupping her sex, a gush of slick seeps from between her legs. This time when he speaks, she hears it perfectly.

“Mine.”

And though it may only be true for a few more hours, though his scent will fade away within days, in that moment, in his arms, with his possessive grip on her sex, she _ is _ his, and she isn’t ready for it all to end. So, she whispers _ yours _against his lips and falls headlong into the bliss of the rhythm they’ve nearly perfected.

His hips slot perfectly against hers, the firm pressure of his weight pushing her into the mattress and with a single thrust, he’s _ there,_ and he’s huge, and she feels so full, so sated, so perfectly in tune with him, that she keens. Whimpering, her nails grip his shoulder, carving fresh tracks in the meat of his flesh as he sets a lazy pace. 

With flickers of moonlight dotting the room, she can barely see him, but she studies him all the same. Rather than watching him as they climb toward their peak, her fingertips trail maps of the places she now knows so well. Charting the length of his spine, climbing the ladder of his ribs, gripping the curve of his waist, she feels her way around every inch she can reach and memorizes the feel of his skin beneath her fingers. 

A gasp, a groan, a long, low moan and she’s toppling over the edge of her high, crashing through her climax.

-

“I think I’ve got everything. Uhm… the sheets… they’re—”

“Ruined?” The way his lips quirk into a small smile tells her he’d already figured as much. “I’m sure they’re used to it, Betty.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry I’m just…I don’t know.” Truthfully, she’s nervous. They’ll be checking out in less than an hour and every bit of tangible evidence of this monumental occasion will be gathered and washed, fresh and clean and devoid of their mingled scents in no time. The very thought of their nest coming undone sends a swell of hormones coursing through her veins. A tear slips down her cheek. “Damn hormones.” She tries to laugh, but when his arms wrap around her waist and her head lands on his chest, she’s crying and she can’t seem to make it stop.

He holds her through it all, whispering promises of seeing her soon and telling her how _ good _ she is, how good she’s been. When the tears subside, she feels silly for it all. She’s never been one to cry at the drop of a hat, but the swirl of complicated emotions and the end of her heat have ruined her chance of composure. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine. Common, even. At the end of a heat cycle, Omegas cry. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Betty.” One finger slips under her chin and tilts it up. “I mean it. Don’t be embarrassed.” She manages to dip her head in a soft nod before he leans down to kiss her. Once again, it feels so very different from their other kisses. Rather than a spark igniting a flame, it feels fluid, flowing, building into a slow well with sweeps of their tongues and stolen breaths between. 

“Do you feel up for a shower before we leave?”

Glancing at the clock, Betty figures they should have enough time. Check out isn’t for another hour and her heat is clearly over so being stuck together shouldn’t be a problem any longer. It’s a painful realization. However, she thinks maybe it’s not quite over yet when a dribble of slick slips down her thigh. 

-

She wants to suggest something about him just leaving with her and them figuring it all out as it comes. She wants to tell him she’s never felt quite this way before. She wants to tell him she’s _ his _, but it all seems like awfully high hopes for someone who’d come to her aid for only her heat. 

They don’t really _ know _ each other, at least not yet, though she hopes that might change. 

She knows the cut of his hips, the curve of his ass, the feel of him pressed intimately against her, but past that, she knows very little of who is and where he’s from. Sure, they’d shared bits and pieces over the last few days, trading stories in their more lucid moments, but a few days isn’t a relationship and she can’t bring herself to ask for more just yet. 

A visit is a good start.

Water splashing against the tile and the squeak of the knob pull her from her thoughts, turning to see a very naked man moving toward her spot in front of the mirror. She, too, is currently without the comfort of clothes, as she has been for the past few days, but this time feels different. The heat is over and her paralyzing need for release that had previously eclipsed any sense of shame in her own skin is nowhere to be found. 

Tracks of bites and bruises cover large swaths of her skin, some darker than others, in all shapes and sizes. Small blue fingerprints dot the jut of her hip, angry red circles decorate her shoulders, and darker patches already yellowing at the edge are speckled in between. It feels as though he’s claimed her by searing his mark into her skin, leaving evidence she can carry with her until she can see him again. While the marks look beautiful contrasting the pale skin of her form, she’s still not satisfied with the picture in front of her. 

Biting her lip, she crosses her arms over her chest in a poor attempt at covering herself, but as soon as her hands are shoved into the crook of her elbows, he’s standing behind her, pulling them down to her sides to expose every imperfect inch of her in the reflection before them. 

“Beautiful,” he mumbles, lacing their fingers together and pressing a soft kiss to the hollow of her throat. “Perfect.” Another kiss against the column of her throat. “Never hide from me, please.” Soft lips tickle the shell of her ear and she leans back into his embrace. 

One hand wraps around her waist and she feels his chin fall to her shoulder. The other palm lands flat against her tummy, just below her navel and looking up, she sees it laying over her womb. 

_ Maybe one day you’ll be swollen with his pups. Alpha is pleased. _

Even though the thought should startle her, with the after-effects of her heat slipping away by the second–it doesn’t. Before she can process what that means, his hand slides lower, parting her lips to circle her pulsing nub and all she can think about is _ him, them, pups, nests—mate. _

_ \- _

Arriving back at her dorm is strange. It’s empty, which isn’t surprising considering Veronica’s long list of trysts with flats in the immediate vicinity. It may be noon, but she knows her best friend well enough to know that any man lucky enough to spend a night with Veronica Lodge had better treat her to brunch when she finally rolls out of bed at an ungodly hour. 

Her keys drop in the bowl by the door and the duffle slung over her shoulder feels too heavy. Trudging down the hallway, she barely makes it into her room before a yawn works itself up her throat and she decides a nap is in order. No one is expecting to return until tomorrow at the earliest, and the ache in her muscles beckons her to the pillowy surface of her mattress. 

-

The crack of a door slamming snaps Betty awake. At first, it’s disorienting, waking up in her own bed after days away, but the lingering scent of the remnants of her heat and _ his _ smell provide a sense of comfort in that confusing first second of consciousness. Then, it all comes back. He’d kissed her goodbye without a concrete plan for visiting. A _ soon _ was whispered at one point between kisses, but she didn’t really know what it meant at the time. _ Soon _ to Betty is within a few hours, a day max. _ Soon _ to him could mean something else entirely. 

Heels click against the hardwood as she hears Veronica approach. “Betty dearest? Have you returned already?” Even before she sees her best friend, she knows Veronica is smiling from the cheery lilt of her typically silken voice.

“In here,” she calls, swinging her legs over the bed and stretching out the bit of sleep still lingering in her joints. 

“Well don’t you look positively _ ravished?” _

She can feel the heat rising to her cheeks and she suppresses a smile. The tank top she’d put on earlier does little to hide the love bites and bruises he’d left stained on her skin, and though she thought she might be embarrassed, a wistful memory of his lips pressed against the abused skin overshadows everything else. 

No words are needed as Veronica squeals, heels tapping the floor as she hurries to Betty’s side. “Tell. Me. Everything.” Each word is punctuated with the sweep of her hands and the bright smile on her face brings out one of her own. 

“It was great, V. Better than I imagined, honestly. He was..._ everything. _”

-

Despite Veronica’s prodding, Betty saves a few details for herself. Some of the more devious details of what they did–like licking every inch of each other for hours on end–remain locked in her own memories. But she does tell her friend about the moments between, the lucidity and comfort that his presence provided. 

“Swoon, B! He sounds positively dreamy. So, when do I get to meet his handsome Alpha stud?”

Brows raised, Betty shrugs. “I don’t know, V. He _ just _ went home today. There’s not like…I don’t know. There’s not a set time. I invited him to visit so hopefully, I’ll hear from him soon.”

“You better. No boy keeps Betty Cooper waiting or they’ll have to deal with the wrath of Veronica Lodge.” 

Laughing, Betty leans into her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug. “Thanks, V, but I have a feeling I’ll hear from him soon enough.”

-

She’d been avoiding delving into the contents of her bag for reminders of their time together. Really, keeping it wrapped up together and shoved in a corner of her room was the safest bet. He still hadn’t reached out to her and she was beginning to wonder if it was really just a one-time thing—well, far more than just once. 

Three days had passed and although her phone hadn’t been silent, his name hadn’t flashed on the ID, planting seeds of insecurity in her mind about their time together. Maybe he just wanted her during his rut. Maybe the rush of hormones was eager to make promises his clearer mind couldn’t keep. The last time in the shower with the fog of their pheromones and the haze of her heat nearly lifted, it had all felt _ so different. _ It had felt real, grounded, slow and sensual in a way that made him feel like her lover. 

Deciding to get it over with, Betty plops the bag down on her mattress and begins digging through the reminders of the previous week. The unused toys are tossed in her bedside table and the few pieces of clothing she’d taken go into her hamper. The crinkle of a piece of paper alerts her to something buried in the bottom under her brush and she pulls out a note, her heart hammering as she slowly unfolds it. 

Messy scrawl barely contained by the thin lines of the paper send a thrumming through her veins. Closing her door, she twists the lock gently, hoping Veronica doesn’t decide to pop in.

The lingering scent of their combined pheromones floats through the room. It isn’t strong or heady like it had been during her heat, but a thin layer clings to everything she’d unpacked and the reminder of what he’d smelled like, what he’d tasted like during their trysts amplifies the urge to soak in the sweetness of his penned note as she beings reading.

_ Betty, _

_ As I sit here watching you sleep against my chest, I feel the need to be chivalrous for once in my life and leave this life-changing decision in your capable hands. _

_ I’ve told you a bit about my life before all of this, but I can’t help but feel like after we leave it’ll never be the same. I’ve read enough about the Alpha/Omega dynamic to know that most of what you said in your heat was a biological imperative. I tried not to kid myself when you said those sweet nothings, tried my hardest not to let it sink into my heart, but I’m not sorry to say that I’ve failed. _

_ While I know where I stand on moving forward, and it seemed you felt the same, I wanted to give you the option to choose this. I’d like to know if we move forward and see each other outside of your heat cycle, you’d really like to give this a shot. As shit as I’ve always been at dating, I’d hate to lose the opportunity to get to know you. _

_ I’ve enclosed my cell number if you want to reach me and I’ve deleted the Mate Me app from my phone. I may be an Alpha, Betty, but I’m nothing without an Omega, and I wish you would be mine. No one else could ever compare. I’ll await your decision and leave the choice entirely up to you, though I'd be remiss to say I’m not hoping for your response. If you _ do _ want to see me, all you have to do is say the word and I’ll be at your door. _

_ This week has changed me in a way I never thought possible and even if I never hear from you again, I need to you know that you deserve only the best. _

_ Yours, _

_ Jughead Jones _

_ 555-696-4132 _

A tear slips down her cheek as she reads it a third time before she picks up her phone and shoots off a short text with her address and one single word: COME.

-

The drive is long, wind whipping around his face and speed limits nothing but suggestions as he flies down the highway on his bike. Engine rumbling between his thighs, the sting of the cool air makes him feel alive. It’s late, and the road is nearly empty as he barrels towards the city and comes closer to Betty, _ his _ Betty with each passing mile. 

When the text had come through, he’d been staring at the piles of letters in front of him emblazoned with various school logos. They’d been there for a few days, three to be exact, and her words from their time together were echoing in his head. He’d already made up his mind about responding but held off until he knew more about what his future might hold--what _ their _ future might hold and where he would want to be. But when one word stared at him from the glowing face of his phone, he shoved them all in a bag and tossed a few random clothes in with them before racing out the door and taking to the open road.

-

Fidgeting from foot to foot, Jughead stands outside a plain white door, raising his fist just to drop it again. It isn’t that he’s nervous, he tells himself, it’s just that he doesn’t quite know what to say. Showing up on her doorstep at an ungodly hour isn’t advisable under normal circumstances, but she’d beckoned him, and he’d rushed over anyway, to hell with any limitations on what a decent time would be. Deciding it was best not to knock and wake the roommate who had honestly sounded a bit scary in Betty’s tales, he pulls out his phone and opens it with a swipe. A quick press of his thumb and the line is ringing once, twice, three times, and he begins to panic. What if it’s on silent? What if she’d been expecting him in a day or two? What if—

“‘Ello,” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep, and he sags with relief. Kicking himself, he realizes he should have texted back, or called, or done anything to let her know he’d be there as soon as possible. She must have fallen asleep waiting for a response, and he regrets that even for a single second she didn’t know there wasn’t a place on the planet he’d rather be. 

“Hey.” He’s trying to sound casual, quelling the race of his pulse and taking a deep breath, but it’s certainly not casual, because he’d driven a few hundred miles on a motorcycle through the middle of the night just to be _ here, _ to see _ her, _ and to feel her wrapped in his arms again. “Can I come in?”

“Hmm,” she hums, yawning into the phone and he can almost picture her sleepy stretch just beyond the door. “What d’you say?”

“I said, can I come in?”

“In?” Clearly, her brain hasn’t quite caught up, and he laughs a bit at the adorableness of it all. 

“In.”

“Wait.” He laughs as she seems to put the pieces together. “In as in... come in here? As in you’re at my _ door?” _

“I am.” 

A few quiet thuds sound through the line and then the knob is twisting with a soft squeak.

“Jug?” It’s mumbled, sleep, reminiscent of the nights he’d wake up with her in his arms, and it’s all he can do not to surge through the door and cup her face between his palms, stealing every last breath from her lungs. 

“Sorry. I know it’s late but I—”

Betty waves her hand, inviting him in and stepping back from the door. “Come on. It’s late, we can talk in the morning.” 

Crossing the threshold into the dimly lit apartment, he takes a moment to look around. It’s bigger than he’d expected: open, clean, with minimal clutter and shelves that look far too organized to even be touched. A warm hand slips into his and a smile greets him when he looks back down at Betty in all of her half-asleep glory. She looks beautiful, little plaid shorts and a matching tank, hair in loose waves that stick out a little on the right. Though she may not be as confident in herself as he thinks she should be, he’s never seen anyone quite as stunning. Leaning down, he presses a quick kiss to her lips and relishes in the way she melts into his embrace. Arms wind around his shoulders and his hands find purchase on her hips as he loses himself to the will of her lips. It may be the middle of the night, and he may still be in his leathers, worn from the road, but there’s something poetic in their differences at that moment. Something that feels a bit like fate, a bit like luck, and a whole lot like he might be in serious risk of falling head over heels in love with the responsive blonde wrapped in his arms. 

-

“This is my side,” she starts, fidgeting with the sheet and peeling it back.

“I’m not picky, Betty. I could sleep on your floor and still be the happiest I’ve ever been.” She smiles as he pulls off his boots. “Well,” he amends, “Maybe not _ ever.” _ The suggestive wink that follows causes a light flush to dust the apple of her cheeks and he smiles in return. 

While Jughead Jones may not have been the most confident kid, clad in a beanie no one seemed to understand with headphones permanently affixed to his ears, as Betty’s Alpha, a rush of newfound confidence surges through him. He knows she likes him outside of the heat, he knows she’d invited him here tonight, and he knows that it will be the first of many more dates to come that he’ll get to fall asleep with the beautiful blonde securely in the circle of his arms.

The clasp of his belt hits the wood floor as his pants pool around his feet. Stepping out of them, he reaches back to tug off the plain t-shirt, dragging it over his head until he can see her again. Sitting up–still in the matching sleep set–her lip is trapped between her teeth and one hand is gripping her duvet. She may have been groggy when he’d first arrived, and he may have felt tired and road-worn before getting to her door, but the reality of being here, in her room, with Betty just a few feet away _ does _ something to him–something wicked that sends his pulse into overdrive as he inches toward her bed. “A little overdressed, aren’t you, Betts?”

Glancing down, she toys with the hem of her tank, worrying the fabric between her fingers. “I want you to know,” she starts as his knee dips into the mattress, “that this isn’t just—” Reaching for her hand as he settles on the bed, he lifts it to his lips for a soft kiss. 

“It isn’t for me either. If this was just about...your heat or your designation, I wouldn’t be here. You have to know that. I like you Betty Cooper, or at least I think I do, and I know we still have so much to learn about each other and so much still to discover together, but I want to do that. And I want to do it with you...if you’ll have me.”

“Jug, I—”

“I may have started out as just a match for your heat, but you used the same site I did and I have no doubt that brilliant little head of yours researched their process at least as much as I did if not even more. There’s something between us. Something I’ve never felt before and while I know it’s early and we may be intimately acquainted in other ways, I want to get to know all of you—your heart, your head, your soul—at least as well as I’ve come to know your body. You see,” tracing the tip of his finger up her wrist, he brushes her gland, “if I brush your skin right here,” as if on cue, he feels her body shiver in response, “you do that.” He smirks, fingertips dancing up her arm to the ridge of her collarbone. “And if I bite just here,” as he pinches the soft skin, she squeaks, “you make the most delicious noises I’ve ever heard.” She leans into his touch, inching toward the center of the bed until she’s practically in his lap. 

“I like you, too, and I want to know you as well–what makes you tick, what you want out of life. I’m more than willing to take the time to learn who you are.” Her lips barely dust his with a featherlight kiss and his fingers flex against her hip in response.

Soft kisses give way to firmer insistence, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and her muffled moan vibrating against his lips. Unlike during her heat, he knows she’s lucid as his name slips from her parted lips and fully aware of her actions as she tosses her shirt to the side, followed quickly by her shorts. There’s no haze of pheromones or biological imperatives driving them as she purposefully drags her nails down his chest and whispers the word he longs to hear: _ Mine. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S ALL FOLKS!
> 
> I hope this ending was *ahem* satisfying for you all. Thanks for sticking with me through this whole fic. Each and every comment, kudos, like, and reblog are so very appreciated and I can't tell you how much the overwhelming support warms my heart. 
> 
> I have plenty of plunnies for one-shots in this little universe for later on so stay tuned and sometime in the future, you may just see another installment!
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on the conclusion!

**Author's Note:**

> The next few days will definitely be interesting. *wink, wink*
> 
> AHHH! Okay, so I hope you all liked this! So far it's plotted for more than just a few chapters but we'll see how it all pans out when it's written. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments _always_ appreciated!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr [@bugggghead](https://bugggghead.tumblr.com)!


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